


Morning After

by kingofcriminals (strideer)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Budding relationships, Fluff, M/M, Mentions of Alcohol Usage, Romance, Smut, hangovers, morning after fic, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-27
Updated: 2013-12-27
Packaged: 2018-01-06 08:36:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1104712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strideer/pseuds/kingofcriminals
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Fuck. Fucking hell. Why is Dean in his bed..? He doesn't want to dwell on the thought, rather focuses on squirming away from his grip. One arm is wrapped tightly around his waist, holding him captive in a vice like grip against Dean's chest. That's when he realizes that they're both naked and his legs and hips are aching with protest at every move he makes. Ohgodohgodohgod--. That doesn't mean what he thinks it does, does it?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Morning After

**Author's Note:**

> First fic written on my shiny new ipad mini! Please be lenient on this. I saw a post on imagineyourotp and wanted to write something. It wasn't this plot exactly, but I liked the idea that I got, so I ran with it.

Oh, God, why did he have to go out drinking? There's a pounding between Castiel's temples as he wakes, squeezing his eyes shut in an attempt to keep the light from penetrating his eyelids. As his body stirs from its slumber, his headache becomes more pronounced and he realizes the full scale of the situation. He doesn't move, just presses his face into the pillow beneath his head. He's nauseous and his head hurts and he doesn't want to face the day. He just wants to sleep and not worry about anything. But, as he shifts, the warmth that is pressed up against his side grunts, protesting his movement with an idle mumble for him to go back to sleep. Worry rises in his gut and he realizes the severity of the situation that he's in. He turns his head a little, opening one eye to find his best friend's nose almost touching his own.

Fuck. Fucking hell. Why is Dean in his bed..? He doesn't want to dwell on the thought, rather focuses on squirming away from his grip. One arm is wrapped tightly around his waist, holding him captive in a vice like grip against Dean's chest. That's when he realizes that they're both naked and his legs and hips are aching with protest at every move he makes. Ohgodohgodohgod--. That doesn't mean what he thinks it does, does it? Cas opens his eyes, only to close them as his head screams at him for the intrusion of light. He struggles against Dean's grip, squirming and pulling away, only to find himself clasped against his chest in an even tighter grip. It becomes quite obvious what he has to do.

As much as he wants to just squirm away and forget about it all, Dean's obviously not letting go of him. He's still sleeping and whenever Cas had seen him sleep, he usually curled around the other pillow in bed, his grip so tight on it that he thought he'd bust it open. He has to wake him up. It'll result in questions and probably some awkward moments, but it's essential that they talk, he figure. He swallows the lump that lodged itself in his throat and begins to speak, his voice soft and rough from sleep. He begins at a whisper, then realizing that there's no way that Dean would wake from something that quiet. He then raises his voice to a regular speaking tone, hoping to maybe jolt Dean from his slumber so he could be freed.  
"Dean.. Dean, wake up," he urges, nudging the stronger man that has him secured in his grip.

Green eyes meet blue and for a second, Dean almost smiles, only to have a flabbergasted expression take its place. It takes him a minute before he pulls back, sitting up almost immediately.  
"Uh.. Cas? What are you doing in bed with me?" he asks immediately, his eyes wide and shock registering on his face. Cas sits up, refusing to make eye contact.  
"I should be asking you the same question," he answers, nearly stuttering as he watches his own hands. Dean swallows and Cas feels his eyes trail down his front, causing him to grab the blankets and quickly cover himself. Dean looks almost visibly shaken by his thoughts, his eyes wide and his face flushed as he stumbles over his words when he tries to speak.

"We.. We didn't have... sex, did we?" he asks. Cas doesn't want to think of Dean being disgusted by the thought, but his tone makes him feel like he is. He doesn't look at him, all of a sudden finding the fraying at the edge of the blanket more interesting.  
"I.. I don't know, Dean. I think we did...," Cas responds. He hears Dean groan and run his hands over his face. He sounds disappointed, almost disgusted, by the suggestion. He doesn't really want to look up at him, for fear that he'll have one of those negative expressions on his face.  
"Cas.. I'm sorry for whatever I did last night," Dean says, making Cas look up towards him in some mixture of surprise and disbelief. 

Did he really think that Cas didn't want to do whatever it was that they did? Sure, he couldn't remember exactly what they did, but it doesn't feel like they did anything wrong. Well, aside from the hangover. His lips pull into a frown, blue eyes capturing green as he stares him down.  
"Dean, don't act like it was a bad thing. If I hadn't wanted whatever we had done last night, I wouldn't have gone through with it," he tells him. Dean merely watches him, with this nearly blank expression on his features. Cas swallows, worried that he's said something stupid and just made things worse. He very well could have pushed Dean away from him, instead of pulling him closer.

Dean looks away from him, almost contemplating his answer. Cas sits and waits, fingers wringing the blanket. He looks down, and is pretty surprised to find bruises on his hips. They're finger shaped, obviously Dean's. Marks weren't something that he thought would be upon his skin, especially from Dean. He looks to him, to see if he bears any marks from their coupling. His back is turned to him, so he sees light scratch marks along his shoulder blades. It makes him shiver slightly, to think that he inflicted such things on his body. He isn't very experienced with sexual relations, but he knows that scratches equate to pleasure. He's almost glad that Dean doesn't notice them. He doesn't want him to. It would make things harder for the both of them.

Dean finally turns back to him after a moment, frowning and a kind of apologetic tone in his expression. Cas takes the moment to offer him a smile, causing Dean to return it out of instinct. The smile pulls up his lips, actually crinkling the corners of his eyes and it makes Cas feel better about the situation. It's a genuine smile, he can see it in the depths of his green eyes. He shifts, moving so that the blanket isn't covering the bruising anymore. It's more subconscious than anything, but Dean notices them. He doesn't make any really negative expression about them, so Cas opens his mouth to speak his point.  
"Dean, I--," he's cut off by Dean waving his hand as he sits back up on the bed properly.  
"Cas, I think.. I guess I should confess something to you," he says.

But, Cas knows what he's confessing. He's seen it in so many things in Dean. All the little things that he's said and done in Cas's presence let it off. Sure, he's not very experienced, but he isn't an idiot. He knows courtship when he sees it. Angels have some of that in heaven, too.Sam has, too. He's even made a mention of it. Hell, most of his brothers tease him about when he's going to actually hook up with the man. Cas thought that it was obvious that he reciprocated. But, maybe it wasn't to Dean.  
"Cas, I need you to kn--," he's cut off with Cas's hand on his mouth as he leans forward.

"Dean, I know. I... feel the same," he tells him, finding the sheets more interesting than making eye contact. Dean's obviously wary, reaching up and removing his hand from his mouth slowly. He's almost scared. Dean is never scared of anything, but he's nervous and worried and so god damn vulnerable that Cas wants to just kiss him. The thought kind of startles him, but he knows that he very well could kiss him right then. Well, if he isn't so nervous he could. He just settles for grabbing Dean's hand, soon finding their fingers locking together. It's innocent and so.. sweet and soft and Cas can't believe just how affectionate one little motion can be.

And it doesn't seem like the time spent on Dean moving forward to kiss him was even there at all. He just finds himself kissing back, almost spontaneously and without any difficulty. Apparently they'd kissed enough for him to know exactly how to go about it. Dean's got this ferocity about his kissing, the small amount of scruff on his neck making it more enjoyable somehow. Any other time, he doesn't think he'd like it. Dean's lips are soft and his breath still tastes like alcohol and morning breath. The underlying bitterness is nice and he likes it. 

He almost likes it as much as how Dean's hands are on his hips again, fingers caressing the bruises he'd left the night before. The only thing he really remembers about the night before was that it was rough and hasty, but this is so much more. It's so gentle and it's like Dean's worried he'll break. He's kissing him and running his hands over his sides and his hip bones, following their curve like a trail towards his stomach. He's not hasty, rather, he takes his time. He works like he's mapping out his abdomen, following his subtle curves and bumps and imperfections. Scars are delicately touched, while muscles are outlined.

And suddenly he's on his back and Dean's biting his lip just enough so that he feels it. He's pressed against him, moving his hips so that he finds himself groaning into his mouth. Their tongues meet and tangle, while Dean's touching him everywhere, all except anything below his waist. Cas's aroused already, heat boiling under his skin as Dean introduces fire into his veins. Their lips part and Dean starts kissing down his neck, biting here and there before sucking on one certain spot on his collarbone. It pinches and hurts a little, but he's too distracted by the rhythmic motions of his hips to really care at this point. The mark is bitten and he continues his trail down his stomach.

Dean stops, hesitates, and then moves up to kiss him on the lips again, stifling the noises he's making. Dean's grunting ever so often, pressing himself against Cas as he rolls his hips for much needed friction. It feels like a little slice of heaven and he wonders how he couldn't remember this. How could he forget something so amazing? He loves every part about it. When Dean finally touches him, he arches from the pure anticipation that he didn't even know that he was feeling. He's giving him quick strokes, licking at his stomach as he pulls back a little. It's different and sensual and he's biting his lip quickly to keep himself relatively silent.

He feels Dean's fingers pressing into him, obviously readying him. Cas squirms, actually apprehensive about it, though he knew that they'd already done such a thing. He's arching into his hand, soon at a tug-of-war between bucking forward or bucking back. Pleasure bubbles in his abdomen and just before he feels like he's going to explode, Dean retracts both hands. He whines gently, feeling cold and slightly abandoned. He opens his eyes, finding Dean leaning over him. He pushes his legs up, hands on his waist and his lips meeting Cas's. 

He feels like it's all happening so fast, but he suddenly doesn't care when Dean slides in. Cas shifts, biting his lip, but Dean begins kissing him instead. His fingers fist the sheets, but Dean grabs his hand, intertwining their fingers again as he begins moving slowly. It's flabbergasting, how god damn good it feels. He lays his head back down on the pillow, squeezing Dean's hand. He hardly hears him, but Dean's whispering things to him. In between kisses, he tells him little things, but he's so on edge that he doesn't pay attention. Plus, he's getting fairly noisy.

All Cas thinks about is moving his hips and kissing him. One arm's wrapped around his neck, fingernails digging into his skin. His lips part in moans and mumbles of "more" and "please". He never would have thought that he was that vocal, but he proves himself wrong as the words come out of his mouth instinctively. Dean's bucking into him fast now, and soon Cas is seeing white, arching his back and curling his toes. It's white hot heat and it's one of the best sensations that he's ever felt. It's heaven on Earth and he shouts his name, biting his lip as he comes down from his high. Dean squeezes his hand, whispering to him that he's amazing and all these other little sweet nothings. Soon heat spills into him and Dean's groaning, his hands gripping him like a vice. 

It comes to him vaguely that the bruises are definitely going to be darker now, but he doesn't dwell on it. The only thing he thinks about is cleaning them both up before Dean lays beside him. Cas is spent, his muscles aching and he's overly tired. He presses into Dean's chest, settling down when Dean's arms are around him, just like they were when he woke up. He smells like sweat and cologne and something wood-y all mixed together. It's delicious and it calms his erratic breathing. He's soft-skinned and warm and just the best person to press up against.

Cas looks up to him, smiles, and almost laughs. It's funny to him that Dean seemed disgusted by the thought of having sex with him only a while ago. But, they bask in the afterglow together, finally getting a regular breathing pattern back after a few seconds. Dean looks down at him, meeting his eyes before one of those smiles light up his expression.  
"What?" he questions, a soft chuckle bubbling from his lips. Cas just shrugs, leaving it at that before leaning up and kissing him. It's a pretty bold move, but Dean kisses back no problem.

"Does this mean that we're like... what's the word?" he asks, blue eyes squinting as he looks at him curiously. Dean's eyebrows raise and then he nearly flushes.  
"Uh.. Dating?" he replies to him, stammering once. Cas obviously startled him.  
"Yeah.. I mean, you like me and I like you. Is that not what dating entitles?" Cas questions. Dean lets out a laugh and just nods, kissing him again and pressing his nose into Cas's hair. He looks pleased by the way he reacted, and just kisses the skin that's closest to him. They're little, soft kisses and convey affection and relief. He even thinks he hears Dean sigh out of disappointment when he finishes.  
"Yeah, Cas. We can date. As long as you kiss me a lot," he jokes and Cas grins.


End file.
